


you keep me in your orbit

by lovles



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe - College/University, Denial of Feelings, Eye Contact, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friends to fwb to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Explicit, Sharing a Bed, Slow Dancing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love but is it really, fwb to lovers, love is compared to an addiction, not as sad as it seems i promise, soft, they care so much for eachother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26481181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovles/pseuds/lovles
Summary: It was simple. It was easy. Mark thought it was the only part of his life that was straightforward. Donghyuck had insisted that it was easier like that, clear cut and simple; beneficial in the way that the only lasting things to come out of their arrangement were the blooming marks that lingered on their necks and the promise of a repeat encounter later that week.But Mark sometimes felt like more than just marks lingered. Sometimes memories of Donghyuck’s instability clung to his subconscious the same way Donghyuck’s hands would cling to his sheets.But here, in the darkness that hung over his bedroom, Mark could see so clearly the boy's dark circles and tired eyes and decided he could not look past the way it seemed as if Donghyuck was drowning.(or; they'd gone from best friends who shared everything, to simply people who fucked. But as the months went on, Mark could no longer stand to sit by and let Donghyuck destroy himself from the inside out.)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	you keep me in your orbit

**Author's Note:**

> For clarification, this entire fic takes place over the course of one night. But, there is a pretty long flashback to a night about eight months in the past. 
> 
> Big thank you to my lovely friend and beta [ebullienttae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebullienttae).  
> Content warning for referenced unhealthy alcohol use and many allusions to addiction/sex addiction!
> 
> Other than that, enjoy!
> 
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5W4uN0SB9VMWo2NSoLmZGu?si=Z0tEId11Q7-3Lhxetn25lA) for this fic.

It’s embarrassing, honestly, how addicted he had become to nights like these. He’d long since come down from his high, the one he could only achieve with hands-on his body and teeth in his neck, back arched and breath shallow. Mark had yet to get up from where he was splayed out on his queen-size after another night of what they had agreed to consider as nothing more than stress relief. 

The lights in the bedroom were off, save for the one lamp that rested on his bedside table, allowing for a shadow to cast on the wall in front of him. The curtains on his floor to ceiling windows were closed, hiding the view of the inner city skyscrapers he’d see if they were open. The dark drapes fluttered in the slight breeze from the overhead fan. His bedroom was dark, the lamplight catching on the wooden bookshelf that stood across from his bed. There were clothes spilling slightly out of the top of his hamper. He must have been too tired to make sure they were all the way in. If he looked down, he would see the corner of his comforter from where it’d been displaced, now resting almost under his bed.

The only other source of light was the thin stripe from under the door to the connected bathroom, the one in which a grumbling and worn out Donghyuck was taking a shower as he usually did after they fucked. Mark knew that once he was out and he managed to toss on his shirt and track pants, snagged off the floor where they’d been thrown, he’d grab his phone and wallet and leave Mark’s apartment without a word. That’s how it always went. It had become their routine. Show up, fuck, leave. Simple. 

Mark laid there, staring at the ceiling. He hoped that he’d been able to bring Donghyuck enough of the feeling of lightheadedness and a sense of bone-deep satisfaction to ease his mind. If Mark closed his eyes, he’d be met with the image of Hyuck as he’d last seen him, eyes cloudy but muscles at least a little bit more relaxed. The dark circles he’d entered Mark’s apartment with had faded in the darkness of the bedroom. 

He’d like to say he was able to ignore the sounds of the shower running, ignore the way his mind drifted easily back to Donghyuck. He’d been quieter tonight than their usual late-night encounters. Perhaps it was the stress of school, Donghyuck in his second year of university, whereas Mark was in his third. Perhaps instead it was whatever had been causing him to fade into someone barely reminiscent of the boy that Mark used to know for the last eight months. 

Mark hadn’t cared really, when Donghyuck had shown up to his door unannounced tonight, waking Mark up from where he’d passed out on top of a pile of schoolwork slightly past nine pm. It had become far from unusual for them to meet like this: it barely took more than an “I’m coming over” text to ignite something in Mark’s body that seemingly only Donghyuck’s words could spark. But tonight, he’d announced his appearance with nothing more than a rushed knock. 

When Mark had opened his front door, Donghyuck had stood as if he were on edge. His black track pants clung to his legs in a way that Mark could rarely get out of his mind, a glaring reminder of how different their relationship had become after this all had started. The rest of his ensemble looked as if little thought had gone into it: the black adidas hat was resting slightly off-center on a mop of newly lightened brown hair, and a white tee shirt that advertised the student-run singing group he’d help found at school hugged his body beneath a beaten-up old denim jacket. 

The outfit was far from unordinary. They often met on nights when things in their lives were starting to get slightly too stressful and they needed something to get their mind off it, so it wasn’t like appearances were top priority. They had long since become comfortable in each other’s presence. 

What was unusual, though, was the look in Donghyuck’s eyes when Mark had opened the door. Usually the look he gave him when their eyes met for the first time on those nights was simultaneously scathing and lustful, as if he couldn’t choose between wanting to yell at Mark or wanting to devour him. Donghyuck always seemed angry as of late, but Mark did what he could to help him relax. 

Tonight, though, his eyes had been cloudier and heavier, and his eyebrows were slightly pinched. His hands fiddled with the bottom button on his jacket, twirling it between his index finger and thumb. He seemed tense. He seemed exhausted. Mark could always tell. He looked at Donghyuck in the doorway.

“Hey, Mark.” He shifted on his feet from side to side and leaned forward, impatient. 

“I’m sorry for not texting, but I knew you weren’t busy. I need- wanted to see you.” 

He quickly corrected himself. His eyes wandered from where Mark was watching him groggily, to behind him, where he could see across his apartment’s familiar living room and into Mark’s bedroom from where the door was open. 

Something about Hyuck’s tone seemed desperate, and his breath was still uneven after his journey up the flights of stairs to reach Mark’s door. Mark was used to his voice having a rougher edge, but tonight, combined with his worsening dark circles and his disheveled appearance, Mark thought he seemed worse than usual. 

He was staring at the boy in front of him, lost in his thoughts.

“Hey, Mark? You there?” A small smile graced his face, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Brought back to the boy in front of him, Mark was quick to respond with a quiet giggle. He felt delirious, those sleepless nights taking their toll.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, Hyuck. Yeah, you can come in.” He stepped out of his doorway and left space for Donghyuck to enter. Most nights, Hyuck would have sarcastically mumbled a quick he speaks! in response under his breath, but tonight the air was silent as he walked into Mark’s space. He quickly passed by the messy desk Mark had spent the last few hours cramped over, nearly tripping over the blanket that had fallen off of the back of the desk chair. Hyuck led them through the hallway with Mark trailing him with less rush than usual, still slightly groggy from his nap. 

Mark followed the boy into his bedroom, turning to shut the door with a click as Donghyuck quickly climbed onto the mattress, just as he did every time he was over. Mark looked around his room. He liked to keep it tidier than the rest of his apartment, a place to clear his mind. His bed had been made that morning, and the only dust that collected in the room was atop the old photo of him and Donghyuck on his bookcase, one from the night before their arrangement had started a few months ago. 

Mark looked back to his bed where Donghyuck had started to take off his jacket, quickly repeating the action to remove the rest of his clothing. 

They didn’t often talk a lot when they were like this. It was simple. It was easy. Mark thought it was the only part of his life that was straightforward. Donghyuck had insisted that it was easier like that, clear cut and simple; beneficial in the way that the only lasting things to come out of their arrangement were the blooming marks that lingered on their necks and the promise of a repeat encounter later that week. 

But Mark sometimes felt like more than just marks lingered. Sometimes memories of Donghyuck’s instability clung to his subconscious the same way Donghyuck’s hands would cling to his sheets. Sometimes Mark would be reminded of how they were before they’d started only meeting like this. 

It had become easier for his mind to supply him images of Donghyuck’s soft breaths instead of his soft words. Of his dark circles instead of his bright laughter. 

He made eye contact with Donghyuck, his eyes were dilated already. Mark shook himself out of his thoughts. Donghyuck beckoned him over from where he’d established himself atop Mark’s bed, so he did what he always did, and joined him.

* * *

Mark was startled out of his reminiscence of how their night together had started by the sound of the shower water turning off and the abrupt silence that followed. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, mentally preparing for what he had decided he needed to do as he thought about how Donghyuck had looked earlier. His eyes had kept their glassy look throughout their time together. Even after they’d finished, Donghyuck still seemed tense. 

The sex had been good as always, just what they always needed. A distraction. He knew that’s why Donghyuck did this with him, why he’d brought up the prospect to Mark in the first place. 

Back when he’d first asked, Donghyuck had seemed worse, skipping class weekly and getting slightly too hammered at the parties he went to. Back then Mark understood Donghyuck better. So, when he had called him up at three am one morning and told Mark that he wanted a distraction badly enough to risk their nine years of friendship, Mark only had to consider it for a few moments before he’d agreed. 

He wanted to do anything he could to help Donghyuck with whatever he was going through, and he’d spare no level of intimacy for the person he cared the most about. Less than twenty-four hours later they’d spent the first night together as more than just best friends. Mark knew what they were doing was dangerous. After Donghyuck left that night, Mark called Donghyuck to make sure they were on the same page. 

They’d agreed they had to both be sober when they were together. Donghyuck had become too familiar with the taste of alcohol and the mindlessness it brought him, and Mark couldn’t bring himself to enable his best friend’s self-destruction. The second point was pretty straightforward, they’d decided not to tell anyone about their arrangement. 

The last thing they’d settled on was what made Mark so hesitant to get up from his bed. Donghyuck wanted to keep things simple. They had figured that the best way for their set up to be as beneficial as possible was to leave all concerns from their lives outside of their little bubble. 

How were they supposed to relieve stress if they spent the whole time thinking about whatever was ruining their lives while they fucked? The thought of tainting what they had by talking about whatever they were trying to forget was what scared them the most at the time their arrangement had started. They had promised to not talk about it. It was easier that way. No emotions involved. 

Being friends for almost their whole lives had made this difficult, but Donghyuck had insisted they keep it. Mark always wanted to help his friends, and when Donghyuck looked worse for wear for reasons other than nails scratching along his back and a hand between his thighs, Mark felt even more inclined to reach out and help. He had told Donghyuck that within the first weeks of their new arrangement. He’d questioned how he could be his best friend if he wasn’t allowed to talk things out with Donghyuck, if he wasn’t allowed to be the shoulder he so badly wanted Donghyuck to lean on. 

Donghyuck had told him that he couldn’t handle talking about it. All he needed was a distraction and that was good enough. Mark had sighed and told him that he’d always be there for him.

So, when Mark had seen his best friend show up to his apartment tonight with little more than a knock and a tired and worn-down look, he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to obey the last point on the list. 

He had grown up with Donghyuck. Went to his first party with him. Graduated with him. Moved to a new city with him to pursue the dreams they’d shared for as long as they could remember. 

Mark knew when something wasn’t right. 

Mark was worried. Despite what Donghyuck had claimed about distraction being more than enough to help him, Mark couldn’t help but think it wasn’t. It was nearing eleven, and Mark could hear Donghyuck close the shower door behind him. 

Mark waited for his self-control to crumble enough so he could do what his mind had been screaming at him to do since he saw Donghyuck step into his apartment earlier that night. 

He waited for a moment, allowing for enough time for Donghyuck to throw on his clothes. He knew the boy got dressed as fast as possible after he showered so he could leave quickly and get back to all the work he had yet to do for school. 

Sighing heavily, Mark slipped off of his bed, throwing on the sweatpants he’d pilfered from the hamper in the corner of his room, and then inched over to the door of the bathroom. He reached the door and knocked. 

“Hey, Hyuck? Can I come in?” 

There was a beat of silence before he heard a short hum, acknowledgment of Mark’s request. He slowly turned the handle, pushing the door a crack before fully opening it. He found Donghyuck half-dressed and bent over the sink, his palms resting on the white countertops. He was staring into the mirror, although the glass was still steamed up from the shower. The faucet was running, cold water flowing out of the tap. 

Donghyuck still hadn’t acknowledged that Mark had entered the space in the bathroom. All of the lights were flicked on, reflecting on the bright white tile that coated the room. Mark moved to step behind Donghyuck, but he hesitated, instead going to take a seat on the toilet lid. He waited for Donghyuck to speak. 

The only sounds in the small space were the running tap and the slightly uneven breaths Donghyuck was taking. Mark resisted the urge to bounce his leg, fearful the sound of the motion would startle the boy before him. 

Mark wasn’t used to seeing Donghyuck so quiet. Even earlier in the span they’d known each other, whenever Donghyuck had a problem he preferred to talk it out. He liked to work through his problems orally, relishing in the building clarity it brought him. 

In front of him, Donghyuck moved his hands so they were no longer resting on the counter and holding his weight. He now gripped the edge of the countertop. He inhaled deeply, sounding almost choked up. Mark couldn’t remember the last time either one of them had cried in front of the other. 

Mark coughed slightly, feeling suddenly awkward. He stroked the back of his neck as he glanced at Hyuck’s back where it faced him. His tan skin was stark under the bright lights of the bathroom. Mark was sure that when he saw his face, he’d notice the contrast between his red eyes, dark circles, and tan face. Mark would have expected his skin to be paling, as if the life was draining from him. That's how Mark imagined Donghyuck now, a boy, a mere shadow, faded and worn. He didn’t know what he was doing. Neither of them did.

The silence between the two of them lasted longer than Mark would have liked. It was the heaviest silence he’d experienced in a very long time, perhaps the first of its kind in the time since he’d moved across the country for school. He coughed again and hoped it would spur him into saying what he’d meant to when he stepped into the bathroom. Donghyuck beat him to it, though. 

He heaved in a shaky breath. “I’m ok, you know.” 

The mirror was starting to clear a little, and Mark could make out the reflection of Donghyuck closing his eyes. He moved one of his hands to turn off the running water.

He took another deep breath, but no words followed it. Mark couldn’t tell if he was waiting for Mark to respond to him, or if Donghyuck had simply grown too tired to continue explaining himself. 

Mark waited another moment, opening and closing his mouth as he worked out how to respond. 

“Donghyuck,” he said, tone more serious than intended. More tired than intended. “I can see that you are obviously not okay.” 

Donghyuck opened his eyes at that. Mark could see the boy’s dark circles in his reflection. His pupils had contracted in the presence of the fluorescents of Mark’s bathroom. It washed out his skin. Donghyuck moved his feet, shifting his balance. He looked down at where his hands had gone back to resting on the countertop. 

“Hyuck, I’ve known you longer than I’ve known anyone else. I know when you aren’t doing well. I knew all those months ago when this started and I know now. You aren’t doing well. You said, you insisted, that all of this- this thing we’re doing- would help. That it would chase all of those difficult things out of your head. But even after all of this, you still look terrible. When Jaemin called and said that you still weren’t going to class I brushed it off. I know how much you hate school, but I was sure you’d start going back.” Mark couldn’t help the frustration slip into his voice.

He didn’t know what he was doing. He just wanted to help. 

“But, then the months went by and Jaemin didn’t call me anymore to talk about you skipping, he barely even texted me. But when he did, he told me that he hadn’t heard from you in weeks. None of them had.” Mark's voice had begun to crack. 

“Where have you been Donghyuck? I know you’ve been around because you’re around here all the time, physically. But you aren’t here mentally, Hyuck. Where are you?”

It was nerve wracking for Mark. This was the most he’d spoken at one time to Donghyuck in months. He looked over at the boy in front of him. Mark noticed he was shaking slightly. Mark began to bounce his leg. 

“Hyuck. We used to know each other's hearts more than anyone else's, but now I know your body more than your mind. You obviously aren't doing well and this isn't helping.”

Mark let what he’d said linger. He hated confrontation usually, but he hated having to ignore Hyuck’s worsening state even more. He just wanted to be there for him. And if fucking him wasn’t working as they’d planned, then he needed to talk to his friend. He’d given him so much time. Mark knew that if Donghyuck wanted to speak, he’d come to him. But with the way the empty bottles of cheap vodka had started piling up in his best friend’s recycling bin, Mark knew he had to speak up. 

The overhead lights became disorienting. There was a tense silence. Then a sniffle left Donghyuck, morphing into a strained sob. He held his breath, and then met Mark’s eyes in the mirror. 

“I…” He closed his eyes as if trying to focus. “I’m just not ready to talk about it yet, Mark.” His voice was shallow, eyebrows pinched in distress. His cheeks were shiny. Mark thought he looked like he was melting.

He turned around, finally facing Mark, but still leaning his weight against the counter. He shuddered, and Mark was able to get a good look at his eyes. They retained a glassy look. In their reflection, Mark could almost make out his own silhouette. Hyuck looked pained, like more than just this conversation was hurting him. Mark wanted to reach out, but it had been months since he’d touched Donghyuck in a way that wouldn’t lead to something more.

Mark held eye contact, and it was like something in Donghyuck snapped. The tears he’d been trying to hold back started to fall down in force, lining the delicate slope of his nose and cheeks with a trail of moisture. He let out another choked off sob. His hands started shaking and he found himself sliding to the floor. 

Mark watched as Donghyuck placed his head in his hands, his knees sliding up as if to protect himself. Mark could only watch from his perch on the toilet lid. Donghyuck kept sobbing. 

Mark didn’t know what to do with his hands. He didn’t know what to do at all, a battle raging in his mind as he fought over whether or not he should go comfort him. All he wanted was for Donghyuck to be safe, to be happy. Mark waited a few minutes, although it felt like years. He had wrung his hands for as long as he could before he could ignore the sobs of his best friend for no longer. He slid off the toilet lid, joining Donghyuck on the ground.

He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch Donghyuck like this, so he settled down across from where he was sitting. Mark’s back was resting against the door to the bathroom. He leaned back against it, watching Hyuck break down with difficulty. It was hard to watch, but it must have been worse to feel. He looked like he was disintegrating. 

“Donghyuck,” Mark trailed off for a moment, watching as Hyuck’s body started to shake a little harder as the sobs worsened. “I know something is up with you, that there’s been something going on for months now. But if you aren't ready to talk, I won't pressure you.” He paused. 

“Just know that I love you and I want you to be safe. All I want is for you to be safe and happy. You deserve everything. You deserve love. I want you to know that you are loved….” 

He stopped to inhale deeply. Watching Donghyuck cry was getting more and more difficult, and his composure was starting to slip. 

“Over the past, what, half year or so that we’ve been doing this, I’ve seen you go from wanting to talk to me to wanting complete silence. You said this would help you stop drinking. And, fuck, I don’t know how to explain this. I know you are dealing with something that’s hard, and you shouldn’t have to go through that shit. But I want you to know that whatever it is, I am here to be a shoulder for you. I know you told me that we shouldn’t talk about those things anymore but, God, Donghyuck, I just want to help you feel okay again.”

Mark thought he hadn’t been this honest with someone in almost a year. He fought the urge to cry.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on. Fuck, I don’t want you to tell me what’s going on if its just going to hurt you, Donghyuck. But know that if, when, you’re able to share. I’ll be right here for you. You mean the world to me, you always have.”

Neither of them talked for a long time. Mark sat by Donghyuck as he finished off his sobs, giving him space and time to get them all out. 

By the time all that was left were small sniffles, Mark had already made up his mind. He stood up, lingering as he looked down on the boy still curled up on the tile below him. 

“I think you should just stay the night, at this point. It’s already eleven and you’re in no state to go home.” He moved the few steps over to reach where Donghyuck was sitting. Mark extended his hand out, like he’d done countless times before. “Come on, Hyuck, let’s go to sleep.”

Donghyuck finally brought his head out from behind his hands and looked up at Mark. He took the outstretched palm and used it to pull himself up. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice gone raw, “for everything. I really mean it. Thank you, Mark.” He took a small, shuddering breath. “I trust you, I really do. I’m just not ready yet.” 

Mark nodded and held onto his hand, pulling him out of the bathroom and shutting off the lights. 

* * *

Donghyuck looked exhausted. Mark released his hand as soon as they had exited the bathroom, and his tired mind almost excused the feelings that swelled in his chest while their fingers were interlaced. 

Mark went over to his dresser, pulling out his old high school basketball sweatshirt and a pair of dark gray sweatpants, tossing them at Donghyuck. He caught them, despite having his eyes barely open. Mark wished he could say it was easy to throw them to Donghyuck. It should have been, honestly, but it still caused his throat to constrict an amount that Mark found all too noticeable. 

Mark turned and studied his face: Donghyuck’s eyes lingered on the clothing in his hands, almost as if he didn’t want to accept them. It had been almost a year since he had borrowed Mark’s clothes, and now it seemed almost too intimate. 

“Just take them, Hyuck. They’re more comfortable than what you were wearing anyway.” Donghyuck looked up at him, meeting his eyes and then slowly nodding in acceptance. His gaze lingered, not leaving Mark’s even when Mark wished for nothing more than for him to break the contact. But Donghyuck’s eyes held steady, unknowingly mooring Mark’s consciousness to his own. 

It had gone on for too long, although Mark felt as though mere seconds had passed, caught up in Donghyuck for not the first time that night. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. His world was splitting open. 

“Go ahead and change, I’ll go get a spare pillow, and then we can get in bed.” Mark made to move for the door of his room, but Donghyuck’s low voice stopped him.

“Mark, don’t worry about it, I can just take the couch. You don’t have to let me sleep in your bed.” He looked back and saw Donghyuck staring at his feet, sweatshirt balled up and cradled in the space between his chest and his hands. Before, the boy had seemed hesitant to accept them, but now he clung to the fabric as if he weren’t aware how tightly he was hugging it. His hands, which tended to be ever so delicate when they touched Mark’s skin, were now gripping tight, his knuckles going white. 

Mark lifted his eyes from Donghyuck’s small hands and gulped, unprepared for the consequences of his suggestion.

“Hyuckie, you’ve already spent so much time in that bed with me, it’s not a big deal. We can share.” Mark left the room at that, going to the hall closet to grab the spare pillow and a new set of sheets. 

By the time he returned, Donghyuck had already changed and was sitting up with his feet dangling off of the mattress. He stood up to let Mark make quick work of changing the sheets, hoping that a fresh set would make it easier to rest without the smell of sex and sweat that clung to the other ones. 

When he was done, he grabbed the comforter off the floor and threw it over the foot of the bed. Donghyuck quickly set his phone down on the bedside table on the left side of the bed, and then climbed under the covers. He rolled onto his side so he was facing the large, covered windows. He was as far away from Mark’s side of the bed as he could get while remaining on the mattress. In the low light, Mark could see that his muscles were tense, as if he was trying to stay as still as possible. Mark let out a small breath. He reached for the lamp beside his side of the bed, making quick work of putting his phone on the charger and then turning off the light. He sighed and tucked himself under the sheets as well. 

At first, Mark faced away from Donghyuck, his eyes straining to make out the photo in the frame on his bookshelf across the room. He rolled the comforter up so it was covering his chest. There was silence between the two of them, but it was heavy. It was awkward, it was tense. The darkness highlighted their breathing: slow, but unsteady. Mark could feel the tension radiating off of Donghyuck. He was so, so tired, but Mark could tell his mind was far from asleep. 

They laid next to each other in silence for longer than Mark had been expecting. He had anticipated one of them to either fall asleep, or to break the silence. Neither happened. The world seemed paused to Mark, as if there was nothing to think about, nothing to say, nothing to do. He felt, in the quiet of the night, that he could lay there next to the boy beside him who he’d shared his space with so many times before, and nothing would ever change. It was eternity over the span of barely half an hour. Mark laid awake, hoping that the silence would lull the two of them to sleep. 

Mark didn’t know where it came from, but a small inclination had begun to rile itself up between his ribs, a need expanding in his chest that was so unlike the needs he had felt earlier in the night. 

He hesitated a moment, but he felt like he had words he had to get out. He could tell that Donghyuck’s breathing had slowed, but he couldn’t see if he was asleep from where he was rolled over. Mark half hoped Donghyuck wouldn’t hear him.

“Donghyuck,” he whispered. Mark waited for a response, but heard nothing more than the breathing that had started to even out from the other side of the bed. 

Mark rolled over so he faced the boy. 

He waited another few minutes before he spoke softly again. 

“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about anything, and I get that. I just want you to know, on the off chance that you’re listening right now, that I’ll always respect what you want to do. If you need me to hold your hand, I will. If you need me to sit on the bathroom floor with you, I will. When you asked and said you needed me to fuck you until you couldn’t breathe or think or feel anymore, I did. I wasn’t lying when I said you were loved, Hyuck.

“But it gets to the point, where, fuck, I don’t know, I just- I worry about you so much. You weren’t doing well, so you isolated yourself. And when that didn’t work, you drank. And when that didn’t work, you came to me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing this with you out of pity. I would never undermine you like that.”

Mark paused for a long while, thinking about his next words carefully. 

“You’re my best friend, Hyuck. You mean more than anything to me. I just want to know why you don’t seem to mean anything to yourself.” 

As Mark had gone on, Donghyuck had shifted a little. Mark still wasn’t sure if the boy was asleep, but he had yet to respond. Mark waited in the silence that hung around them, but minutes had passed and Donghyuck had said nothing.

Mark rolled back over onto his side, so he couldn’t see Donghyuck anymore. He needed to go to sleep, but looking at Donghyuck’s fragile body in the darkness of the room, wrapped up in the sheets on the bed they shared, was going to keep him far too awake. His words were out, but they lingered where they floated in the space above the bed. They couldn’t settle, Mark felt as though they couldn’t land until the boy beside him could absorb them. Until then, they’d linger, no satisfaction, only unease. 

If he hadn’t turned over, Mark would have seen Donghyuck awake, slowly moving his fingers and tracing the words Mark had spoken along the top of his thigh, as if trying to etch them into his skin. His own breathing had hitched lightly at Mark’s words, but he had made sure not to tense, not wanting to alert the other boy. Donghyuck couldn’t ignore it, though, the feeling of heightened tension. He felt it seep into his being in how his own jaw had clenched slightly, how his fingers dug deeper into his thigh. 

Donghyuck waited until Mark’s own breathing had evened out, letting the minutes pass. He heaved in a deep breath while trying to keep his actions as minute as possible. 

He slowly breathed out, as if trying to ease the tension that kept his body static. 

“It’s because I couldn't control how I feel about you, Mark.” 

Donghyuck started tracing words out on his thigh again, this time his own, hoping that Mark was asleep in the silence that followed his statement. 

“And, fuck, for the love of God Mark I hope you are asleep right now.” Donghyuck was quiet, his voice shaky. His other hand moved to grip the pillow by his face, trying to anchor himself. 

But Mark wasn’t asleep. He had tried to suck in a breath as quietly as possible, but the noise had still alerted Donghyuck. In response, Donghyuck’s own breath caught. 

“What do you mean by that, Hyuck?” he started, quiet, hesitant, as if he was terrified Donghyuck would run. 

The silence lingered even longer, so Mark shifted, rolling back over to look at the boy in the darkness. He waited patiently. He didn’t want to drag anything out of Donghyuck, so he let him take as much time as he needed, although Mark’s mind was racing at the possibilities of what Donghyuck meant.

Donghyuck remained still, firmly planted and facing away from Mark with intent. He didn’t want to show his face. He was terrified of the vulnerability, and how he knew that as soon as he started talking, he would crumble. 

“I couldn’t control how I feel about you.” He paused for another few moments, before continuing shakily. “And the moment I realized that, all I wanted was to run to you. You are my safe space, Mark. You always have been. 

“It doesn’t make sense, anyone else would have run away from the person they were…” his voice tapered off, anxiety evident, “...they would have run away from the person they were falling for. I think I always knew it would be you, in the end, but it scared me. It scared me so bad, Mark.” He had started breathing deeply, trying to get as much oxygen into his body as he could. 

Donghyuck, somehow, wasn’t shaking, perhaps the exhaustion he felt had worn him down to the point where all he could be was honest. 

“That’s why I called you in the first place, actually. I thought that maybe if running away from all of my problems didn’t work, maybe I could, I don’t know, fuck it out of me. And I’m so sorry for that, by the way. I just didn’t know what to do, who to talk to. This ate me up like nothing ever had, and I just wasn’t ready to talk about it with anyone, but especially you. I cut Jaemin off because of it. He had figured it out and I wasn’t ready. But I don’t think I could ever be ready, Mark.” 

Mark could sense that Donghyuck wasn’t finished, so he waited and let Donghyuck take the time he needed.

“And that's why I kept coming back to you. You never asked questions, or pushed too hard, or made me feel guilty for all of my secrets. You were just you. You would just let me curl up beneath you and so I didn’t have to think about anything. All I wanted was the emptiness in the moments after we had sex, the silence in my head that I could only get after we’d been together. It hurt being with you, but to me, it was worth it. It wasn’t healthy, but I think I was in love with you anyway. But as it went on, you became more than a getaway. 

“I wanted you, Mark Lee. So bad that it kept me coming back.” 

He let his last lines go breathy as his voice faded. Sleep was finally getting to him. Pouring out what he’d wished he could bury for ages was exhausting, his brain felt like it was crumbling. 

Mark didn’t know what to say, his mind still processing everything Hyuck had laid out for him. Donghyuck trusted him so much, letting Mark see something he’d kept hidden for as long as they’d been going at this. His mind was too overwhelmed to form a response, so he gently reached his fingers out. 

He didn’t know where to place them, or even if he should place them at all. Donghyuck hadn’t been so open in front of him for years, and Mark couldn’t remember how it was that Donghyuck liked to be comforted. 

He weighed whether or not to reach out to him, but he knew that Donghyuck needed something to help him calm down. Mark allowed his hand to travel until it met Donghyuck’s own where it had been tracing patterns on his thigh over the covers. Donghyuk’s fingers slowed in their path, and he hesitantly took Mark’s hand in his. 

His hands were shaking a little, but they were the only part of him that were. He was still faced away, but Mark could hear Donghyuck’s small sniffles that threatened to turn bigger. He let Hyuck play with his fingertips, moving them back and forth so delicately that Mark was terrified to speak, lest he break the air they had created around themselves. 

So Mark didn’t. Instead, he fully slotted his hand into Donghyuck’s and started rubbing comforting circles across his knuckles. He kept at it until he felt Donghyuck’s hand start to become limp in his, sleep overtaking his body. 

He smoothed one final circle over the back of his hand, and then whispered, “I understand, Hyuck.” 

Mark felt as though that breath he’d been holding had finally deflated, but it left a cavern in its wake. There was no response, so Mark allowed himself to untangle from Donghyuck’s fingers. He needed to think, and he wouldn’t be able to do that if he still was in contact with the boy’s warm figure. Mark felt more uncertain than he had before they’d talked.

He rolled onto his back and turned his head, catching sight of the faint outline of the picture frame atop his bookshelf in the dark. 

He breathed deeply, and for the first time in months, allowed himself to think back to the night they’d taken that photo. His throat felt constricted again, a certain three am phone call coming to mind. And now, eight months later, his best friend had confided in him. Mark didn’t know if he should feel used, or loved, or disgusted. All he knew was that he felt uncertain about everything, unsteady on a path he’d believed to be stable. 

Mark had known Donghyuck long enough to have seen his ability to develop addictions. The boy was prone to escapism, but Mark had never assumed that he’d be the drug Donghyuck would become loyal to. Mark was terrified he’d enabled Donghyuck in the same way he was terrified he’d been hurting the boy he’d only been trying to help. Mark was still certain, though, that Donghyuck meant more to him than anybody else in his life. And yet, he’d unknowingly been fueling an addiction that he believed he’d been helping to stop. 

He felt his throat constrict again. He felt like he was drowning. His mind was in drought while his lungs felt plunged in water. Ever conscious of the boy beside him, Mark knew he needed to think, to reexamine the night this had all started. With a quick glance back at the photo, he let his mind wander down the path he almost never allowed himself to follow. 

* * *

The week that photo had been taken had been one of the worst ones that Mark could remember. His courses had consumed him, his mother had called him to reiterate how disappointed she was in him, he had thrown up almost every day that week, the stress from exams causing his own body to reject him. 

Mark had called Donghyuck that night, the first of two calls that were bound to change his life, and had asked him to come over. 

The lights had been off in his apartment except for the lamp next to the entrance. The door to his bedroom was open. In it, his drapes were pushed to the side, exposing the city’s grand buildings; their lights painted Mark’s apartment with a hazy, cool ambiance. He felt like shit. 

He slipped onto his couch where it rested off of the wall in his living room. He let his tired mind wander and allowed his body to ooze into the cushions, legs becoming jelly and headache starting to alleviate. 

He had almost fallen asleep when he heard a knock on the door. Forcing his eyes open with a groan, he willed himself off of the couch, dragging himself to his apartment’s entrance. His hand twisted the doorknob and pulled, presenting Donghyuck where he stood beyond the threshold. 

Mark had stared at the boy in front of him. He hadn’t seen him in a few days, simply being too busy to hang out with anyone, but the Donghyuck before him was surprisingly stunning. His hair was unbrushed and unruly, and a faint sheen of sweat from the stairs he’d climbed coated his skin. His cheekbones shone in the lowlight from the overhead in the hallway, and Mark could just make out the soft moles that adorned his skin. Mark’s mind drifted. He felt a sudden need to reach out to Donghyuck, to stroke his face, to grip his arm. 

Mark shook his head, he was so tired. 

Donghyuck only excused Mark’s staring for a second before quietly coughing. He took in Mark’s expression before unceremoniously brushing past him and into his apartment. He had been invited, he didn’t need to wait for Mark to pull him in. 

Current Mark, the one laying in a dark room next to that same boy, thought about how eerily similar the beginning of that night was to the night the two of them had just had. Except tonight had felt a lot colder than it had the night they’d danced around each other, basking in the warmth they found in each other. Maybe they had always been like that, but Mark just hadn’t realized it. 

The Donghyuck from that night shuffled into and around Mark’s apartment. “Jeno texted me earlier,” he told Mark, who was still standing in the doorway, scared of what his mind had urged mere moments before. “He said you looked like shit when you walked in for your exam today. It must have been serious if even Jeno said it was shit, honestly.” He laughed lightly, making his way to the small kitchen that was open to Mark’s living room. 

Mark had successfully shut the door, and was now making his way to where Donghyuck was wandering. Donghyuck had turned on the light in the kitchen, adding a bit of yellow to the look of the apartment. It should have made the space warmer, but to Mark, it almost induced a sense of vertigo. 

He looked warily at his friend who had less than delicately hopped on the kitchen peninsula, perching upon the countertop. 

“So, Mark, what’s up with you?”

Mark honestly wanted to just laugh with the boy in front of him. He wanted to joke and say that nothing was seriously wrong, that his body didn’t feel like an enemy, that his grades were fine, that he hadn’t just felt an overwhelming need to be in physical contact with his best friend. But those were untrue, and the week had been too long for him to entertain the ability to lie or to make lighthearted conversation anymore. Mark contemplated admitting what was happening to Donghyuck, but his mind was moving slowly, and he wasn’t sure what he could offer to the boy before him. The Mark in bed thought back to it now, and could almost feel the shame that had coated his skin that night; he had felt immensely disappointed in himself.

Upon Mark’s silence, Donghyuck’s expression had shifted from one of mirth to one of concern. His eyebrows pinched together, and his small smile started to fall. 

He waited another few moments, but Mark remained quiet, contemplative.

“Mark? Are you okay?” he asked quietly, voice coated in sincerity.

Mark felt the tears well up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He coughed softly, but managed to hold it together. 

“No, Hyuck, not really, honestly.” He tried to add a small laugh at the end of his words to soften their impact, but it came out sounding slightly mangled. 

Donghyuck silently hopped off of the countertop, striding a few steps to stand in front of Mark. He reached his hands out, taking Mark’s face in between them, and searched his eyes for something, but Mark wasn’t sure what. He didn’t have the energy to ask. 

“Mark, hey. We can just chill tonight if you want? We don’t have to do anything wild.” 

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m sorry that I’m not going to be very fun tonight. It’s been such a long week, Hyuckie.”

Donghyuck let out a breath and removed his hands from Mark’s face. He looked the boy in front of him up and down, before pulling one of his hands into his own. He quickly pulled on Mark’s wrist, starting to tug him to the other end of his living room, to where the small couch stood a few feet from the wall behind it. The light was low in the room, and shadows of their path lined the walls. 

“Here. Sit,” Donghyuck commanded, dragging Mark down to sit on the couch. Donghyuck stood before him as he watched Mark collapse into the cushions. In the light, he could see how Mark’s eyes reflected, their deep brown lustrous with the tears that had pooled in them. 

“What we are going to do,” Donghyuck started, “is put on an album, and I am going to start dancing around right here in your living room. And you, Mark Lee, are going to be so entranced and awestruck by my simply magnificent dancing,” he paused, cracking a smile, “that your body is going to be forced to join me.” 

He looked deep into Mark’s eyes as he spoke. Mark could see a slight gleam in them. If he hadn’t been so exhausted, he might have seen the bags under the boy’s eyes, as well. 

Mark slowly nodded his head, still unwilling to speak in case his voice came out too shaky. He pulled one of the throw pillows onto his lap. 

Donghyuck’s smile fully returned at that, and he made his way to the table that stood against the wall behind the couch. He pulled a record from upon it, gazing at the simple orange cover for only a moment before he put it on. The notes of the first song started, and Donghyuck made his way to stand back in front of Mark. 

Donghyuck’s smile was delicate, but it blended wonderfully with the tender look in his eyes. He clapped his hands once, his smile becoming fuller. Mark’s eyes wandered all over his face, darting from his forehead to his cheekbones to the mole just under his jaw. Donghyuck bounced up and waltzed the few steps to the center of the rug in the living room. His feet were bare, and he gracefully moved around the space. The song started to pick up.

Mark could only breathe in and out carefully, his full attention on the boy in front of him. Mark had watched with rapt intrigue as Donghyuck closed his eyes, starting to get lost in the tune of the music that flowed so softly from the record player behind them. 

The low light in the room caught Donghyuck’s skin perfectly. The shadows it cast on the wall next to him moved parallel to the boy, his silhouette synchronized to graceful movements he made. The song progressed to the bridge, and Donghyuck started to spin.

He opened his eyes, glancing at Mark every time he faced him. As he spun around, he caught glimpses of Mark, who had begun to slightly hum along to the song that filled the air around them. 

Mark felt as if the whole world had stopped to watch Donghyuck. The earth had stopped spinning just for a moment, in search of the view of the boy skillfully turning, his movement fluid. He was incredible, still moving elegantly across the rug. The space was small, but he commanded Mark’s attention the way nothing else could. It was suffocating. Mark would learn it always was when it came to Donghyuck.

He was glowing, and his light was mingling with the music midair, creating a prism that shone around the room. Mark wanted to close his eyes, but he was terrified he’d miss a single second of the boy before him. Midnight colors bore into him, Donghyuck a disco ball reflecting Mark in thousands of distorted pieces. In him he could see anything, yet none of them were quite right. 

The notes of the song started winding down in time to Donghyuck’s slowed movements. It seemed like the music obeyed Donghyuck’s every whim. If he wanted something slow, the melody would follow. So would Mark.

The final notes played. “Mark Lee. I see you staring on that couch. Come dance with me.” His breathing was heavy after dancing, but he smiled tightly through it. 

Mark could only accept, slowly moving the pillow off of his lap and rising to his feet. He could no longer feel tears in his eyes. Instead, he felt his fingers tingling, his mind buzzing. 

The next song started playing, and Mark moved to be next to Donghyuck. 

“Alright, Mark.” His voice was warm and his body flushed. “Let’s go.” His eyes were just as soft as his words. 

Donghyuck started moving around Mark, hoping to show him that it was okay to let go, to untense. He wanted him to loosen his muscles and melt into the music and into the floor. Donghyuck moved around, floating around the boy he was trying so hard to cheer up. 

Mark started to move with him, sinking into the feel of the music. The first chorus hit, and by that point the two of them were merely silhouettes wound around one another, movement becoming their unspoken language. Mark was getting lost, growing sluggish in the warmth of the air and the peace he felt. He was relaxing, he was melting. 

Mark closed his eyes, continuing his path, and orbiting Donghyuck. He only opened his eyes after he heard a soft chuckle. 

This must have been the moment for the both of them. He’d been so blind! So, so blind to it. The two figures of that night were mere reflections of each other, orbiting around and presenting desperation with the cover of vulnerability. They were two parallel lines play-acting as crossroads in orbit. Mark thought back to how he had spun around Donghyuck, how at the time he had felt as if Donghyuck had been in control of himself, as if he had been stable and guiding and helpful. Mark had been dizzy on it- on Donghyuck’s false stability. If he had only listened, if he had only opened his eyes he could have seen that the boy he held so dear needed just as much help now as Mark did then. 

They had spun, they had melded, the mirrored one another. He let the memory consume him again. 

When Mark had allowed his eyes to crack open, he saw Donghyuck in the living room before him, now stopped, smiling at him with such a gentle expression that Mark could feel his cheeks start to color. 

“Mark Lee,” Donghyuck said softly. “You’re smiling.” 

Donghyuck was right, Mark had a small smile on his face. He had helped him forget for a minute. He felt so safe and comfortable in that moment, just as he almost always did with Donghyuck. 

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He stared at Donghyuck for a moment, the second song winding down in the background. The next song picked up, and they started orbiting each other again. There, dancing with Donghyuck in his living room, the time slipped away from him. 

The final song started playing, and they paused to look at each other. Mark realized he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Donghyuck couldn’t seem to either. It sucked his breath away from him. 

They stayed like that: feet apart, gazes locked, breaths synchronized and slowing down to return to normal. Mark searched Donghyuck’s face, allowing his eyes to connect the dots between his moles before returning to his eyes. The air between them had grown warmer, tenser.

The last song had finished. The final note played, leaving behind the crackling of the record. The sound snapped them out of their trance. Donghyuck blinked, dropping his eye contact. He cleared his throat, breaking the tension that had layered on the air between them. 

He took a step closer to Mark, as if pulled in. He looked like he wanted to hug him, but he hesitated. Mark wasn’t always very fond of physical contact, but he could always make an exception for Donghyuck. 

“Come here, Hyuck,” Mark whispered. 

And so Donghyuck took the final steps forward to close the distance between them. He wrapped his arms under Mark’s, curling into him briefly. 

“Thank you,” Mark whispered into Donghyuck’s hair, “I’m glad you showed up.”

Donghyuck sighed heavily, lightly squeezing Mark before pulling back. 

“Of course, let me know if you need anything else. You can always call.” He started moving toward the entrance of the apartment. Mark followed him. 

“Wait, actually…. Do you still have that old polaroid? Maybe we could take a picture, commemorate our little dance?” Donghyuck’s eyes lit up as he proposed it to Mark. 

Mark, of course, could not say no, so he quickly turned and grabbed his camera from where it lay on his desk across the room. Donghyuck followed him back to the middle of the room, waiting for Mark to bring it back with him. 

“Here,” Mark said. “Smile.” He held the camera out in front of them. Donghyuck had moved to sling an arm around him, and the camera flashed, lighting up their faces. Mark lowered the camera in his arms, waiting for the picture to process. Mark realized his breathing had yet to return to normal. He would come to understand that that was impossible with Donghyuck nearby. 

The picture had been taken and Mark had started to wander around the living room, picking up the pillow that had fallen off the couch and placing the blanket that had slipped off his desk chair back where it went. 

Donghyuck held the polaroid out in front of him, facing away from Mark. Mark could see something in his gaze shift as he looked at the photo, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. Donghyuck placed the polaroid on Mark’s counter, leaving it for him to keep.

“I… I think I should go,” he said softly, looking up from where he’d left the photo and starting to grab his things. 

“Thank you, Hyuck. I’ll see you later?” 

“Of course, Mark Lee. Call me. Get some rest,” he said with a small smile. 

The pair finally moved to the door, Donghyuck twisting the knob and stepping out. 

Mark stood in the entrance as Donghyuck exited. “Bye, Hyuck.”

Once he was out of the door, Donghyuck turned and gave Mark a little wave. The door was shutting, but before it fully closed, Mark glimpsed the way Donghyuck’s face fell. 

He put it out of his mind, blaming it on exhaustion, and turned to head to sleep.

After putting the record away, he climbed into bed for the night, turning out his light and facing his windows and the view they provided. He felt content. Tomorrow was terrifying, but at least he’d been able to relax for a while. 

It didn’t take long for him to drift to sleep.

Mark thought about that photo now, about how at the time he’d barely paid attention to it, his sleep deprivation had been starting to heavily set in by that point. He’d simply brought it to his room and placed it on his bookshelf. 

As smoothly and quietly as he could, Mark snuck out from under the covers, making to go over to study the picture more closely. Luckily the boy beside him didn’t wake up, so he crossed the few steps over to his bookshelf. It was difficult in the darkness, but he could still make it out. 

He couldn’t look away. The longer he stared, the more obvious his face became. Where Mark was looking at the lens, Donghyuck was looking at Mark. His eyes widened. 

Mark brought the photo even closer to his face, studying Donghyuck’s dark circles he hadn’t even noticed that night. The more Mark studied the picture, the more the rest of that night’s events started to make sense. Now he could see where Donghyuck was coming from, could see why Donghyuck called him at three am that night of all nights. 

Because it was at three am that night that he got that fateful call. He should have just ignored it and gone back to sleep, but seeing it was Donghyuck, he had quickly picked up. The breathing on the other line had been shaky, and even in the early morning haze, Mark wanted to make sure Donghyuck was okay. 

“Hey, Mark?” Donghyuck had asked hesitantly. Mark thought he sounded almost guilty. A strange feeling had settled in Mark's chest, almost overriding his exhaustion. 

“Please don't think this is weird, but,” he took a deep breath, “I need to be under you. I need you so I can't even think anymore. I'm so sorry, but I just need to forget about some things. I don’t want to remember why I’m so sad. It won't mean anything. Just, please. It can be simple, just some stress relief for the two of us.” Donghyuck sounded close to tears, or as if he’d already been crying. 

There was a silence. “Hyuck, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“Yes.” 

In the silence that followed, Mark's mind had wandered to the time they'd spent just hours before. He thought about how Donghyuck had helped him, and immediately his mind settled on how he would do anything for his best friend. 

Mark let out a deep breath. “Hyuck, hey,” he said calmly, pausing for a moment.. “Okay. I’ll do it. For you.” The other end of the line was silent.

He had hung up the call, and gone back to sleep, uncaring of the way his life was about to change. 

* * *

At his side, Mark heard Donghyuck shift in his sleep, fully drawing him out of his memory of that night all those months ago. Donghyuck had been so open, so willing to help Mark, even when he had been going through something so present, and so devastating. Mark hated how he hadn’t noticed, but Donghyuck had always been good at hiding his emotions if he needed to. He wished that Donghyuck had trusted him enough then to come to him, or at least go to someone else he trusted for support. But now, looking back, Mark could see why he didn’t. He wasn’t ready, and he could respect that.

Sighing heavily, he set the photo back down on the bookshelf. He sat at the head of the bed, thinking a bit before he slipped his legs back under the covers. He hoped that sleep would overtake him quickly. 

But it didn’t. All Mark could think about was everything that had been revealed, everything he had realized. Mark had seen his best friend deteriorating for months, and it had been brutal to watch. But Donghyuck trusted him enough, in the hazy moments of the early morning, to be open with Mark. And Mark had not been lying when he said he’d do anything to support Donghyuck. He loved him, he wanted him to find peace. 

Donghyuck was brave, he was kind, he was gorgeous, and Mark would give him the world if he could. Donghyuck’s feelings had hurt him. He had been battling an addiction for the past year. It was horrific, the transformation of something that should be light and dreamy into something that hurt him every moment it could. It had been taking pieces of him bit by bit by bit until he was a husk of who he used to be. Mark had seen him so empty, but he hoped that he’d been able to cleanse himself at least a little tonight. Hopefully on the other side, Mark could hold his hand and see the smile he loved just a little more.

The mindset he had endured for the past year was not one this was easy to get out of. A confession does not solve that, and Mark would not even entertain the idea that by listening and comforting he’d been able to cure the boy he loves. 

Mark looked over to the boy beside him, seeing his small body curled up, his hand tucked under his chin. In his sleep he looked peaceful, calm in the wake of the chaos that was their night. He was adrift, and once awake, Mark wanted to help him stay that way. He wanted to protect him, care for him, be there for him. He wanted to hold his hand through it all. He just hoped that he could do it in a more healthy way going forward. 

In the low, early morning light, he quickly shifted back down on the mattress, covering himself and then Donghyuck where the comforter had slid off of his frame. He looked back over to the picture on his bookshelf. Mark hoped that when they reflected each other in the future, there would be no more suffocating, no more drowning. 

He hoped that their images would still be wound, but no longer distorted.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! Thank you for reading... 
> 
> um you can find my twitter here [twitter](https://twitter.com/lavenderllester)
> 
> This is heavily inspired by music and i hope that came through! The title is from better off by ariana grande and dancing scene inspired by mirrorball by taylor swift... my beta and I even called it the mirrorball scene lol.
> 
> (the album they play when they dance in channel orange by frank ocean)


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